


Cats, Dogs, and Neighborhood Betting Pools

by Era_Penn



Series: imaginetonyandbucky fills [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, AU, Avengers as Animals, Clint is a dog, Coffee, Depression, Dirty Language, Flirting, Fluff, Implied Past Relationships, M/M, Neighbors, PTSD, Pining, bad ones, cat on a mission, implied Steve/Sam - Freeform, natasha is a cat, t for language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11083035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Penn/pseuds/Era_Penn
Summary: Prompt: Imagine Tony's cat keep sneaking out of Tony's apartment to cuddle with Bucky's dog next door. Tony secretly thinks his cat is plotting something. Bucky is exploding from the cute every time he comes home and find his dog cuddling a kitty, not to mention the bonus when the cute guy next door comes to collect his cat.Originally posted on imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com





	1. Chapter 1

Tony lay flat on the floor on his belly and stared deeply into Natasha’s eyes. She yawned at him. “Your breath smells like tuna,” Tony said, affronted. She stared at him, large eyes wide and innocent. “I did not feed you tuna. And, my sandwich is missing.” She continued staring. “Don’t give me that look, cat, I know you’re behind this.”

She stretched out a paw and booped him on the nose.

Tony sighed and deflated. He reached out and gently scratched behind Natasha’s ears. Apparently in a good mood, she didn’t retaliate. She rarely drew blood unless he pushed the issue, she was good about giving him a warning. Other people, on the other hand - well, Tony kept a first aid kit on hand, just in case. “What are you plotting?” Tony asked the cat. 

She yawned in his face again and laid her head on her paws, settling in for a nap. 

“Fine,” Tony grumbled. “Keep your secrets!” His voice emerged less angry and more fond. Standing up, he grabbed his bag off of a nearby chair. “I’ll be back after work. Be a good guard kitty and eat any intruders, you little demon.”

Natasha turned her back on him.

Tony snorted and left, locking the door behind him. Not that it would do much for security. He’d forgotten his key and carded in before, and he was sure he’d do it again. He had no doubt that others could do so as well. Skirting his neighbors’ doors, Tony made his way quietly down the hall and then bounded down the stairs, taking several steps at a time. They creaked under his feet. It wasn’t a great apartment. Ever since he and Howard had a falling out over the future direction of Stark Industries, Tony had been cut off. He was stubborn, though, and refused to come around to Howard’s line of thinking, so he got a job at a nearby garage and another one at a Starbucks near the garage, and started trying to scrape by in a crappy New York apartment. Natasha had saved him from a mugger in a back alley, so he’d taken her in and miraculously managed to feed both of them.

It also improved his security. She was a vicious guard cat.

* * *

Bucky Barnes stared at his ceiling, listening to his clock tick. Every limb felt heavy - heavy, heavy, heavy. Even the one that wasn’t there anymore. Sitting up was like trying to move through mud, and blood, and under the weight of Carson, because no way in hell was Bucky leaving him behind.

Bucky sucked in a deep, deep breath, and then let it out in a long stream of air that felt like a roar at the unfairness of the world. Rolling over onto his stomach, he grabbed his phone. Quickly he swiped out a message. _Don’t think I’ll make it in today._

 _You feeling okay?_ Comes the quick reply. Bucky sighs. Sam never fails to ask, but he doesn’t pry like Steve would, either. It’s the better of two mother hen options.

_Eh. Heavy, y’know? Just need to take a day and relearn how to move._

_Let me know if you need anything. I’ll cover you._

Bucky sighed and put his phone away. The clock kept ticking. A wet nose snuffled at his fingers. Bucky smiled a bit. “Dumb dog,” he said affectionately. He let his eyes fall closed as he rubbed at the mutt’s ears. He’d picked up Clint the dog at a shelter just after he got home and realized he wouldn’t go outside if he didn’t have a reason. By the fourth time Clint made a mess inside, he was fed up enough with it to start forcing himself out of bed and to the park in the mornings. The dog had done more for his recovery than Steve with his hovering ever had, more even than going to weekly therapy.

Clint huffed and whined against Bucky’s palm, pushing more insistently. With a groan, Bucky sat up and spun, letting his feet rest on the floor. Clint leaned up, putting his paws on Bucky’s knees and wagging his tail. Clint was a rough fellow, probably some kind of shepherd and terrier mix. He had a notched ear and an excellent nose. He was also capable of spotting suckers willing to feed him from six blocks out.

Bucky sat there for a while, until Clint’s whines got more insistent. He forced himself onto his feet, Clint yipping quietly, but happily at him. Slowly, Bucky ran through his morning routine. He changed out of his loose plaid sleep pants and into exercise shorts and a shirt, drank a protein shake, brushed his teeth, ran a quick comb through his hair. He sat down at the door and tugged on his pre-tied shoes. Then he sat and stared at the door. It seemed looming. 

Clint barked at him and bumped against his back. Bucky sat up with a groan. “Alright, alright,” he grumbled. He grabbed Clint’s leash and clipped it onto the dog’s collar, and opened the door.

Clint happily trotted out just in front of Bucky. He didn’t tug on the leash, but he liked to take point, as Sam put it jokingly. Bucky didn’t mind. Clint knew their route for their morning run by now, so Bucky usually let the dog lead. It made it easier, on days like today.

They swung around to the nearby dog park first, so Clint could relieve himself. Then, they ran up several blocks, before looping back around to end up at the dog park. Bucky got himself a bottle of gatorade out of the vending machine and tossed a ball around for Clint for a while, and then they headed back to his apartment to eat. If Bucky was lucky, he’d pass his neighbor on his way out to work. Tony the cute brunette usually looked somewhere between exhausted and manic, and always bent down to pat Clint before he took off. They only ever saw each other in passing, and Bucky got the feeling Tony was extremely busy. He wished he could find some kind of premise to ask the guy out, but he doubted Tony would go for it. Tony was damn good looking and smart, while Bucky was a one-armed veteran with a dopey dog. They weren’t in the same league at all.

* * *

When Tony got home, Natasha didn’t try to attack him at the door. He frowned. “Natasha? Kitty, kitty!” he wandered out to the balcony. Natasha liked to lounge in the sun. Then he checked under the bed. And above the fridge. And every hidden cranny of the bathroom. Then he started to panic. He’d lost a lot of friends when he lost his money, as he’d expected. Natasha never cared - she was a cat. As long as she could steal his tuna sandwiches and attack his feet when he got ready for bed she was totally content. 

Now… now maybe she’d left him too. He supposed it was inevitable. 

Tony sniffed and wiped his eyes. He could at least check the rest of the building before he broke down. He’d start on the top floor and work his way down. Cats liked high places, maybe she’d gone to the roof to chase pigeons or something.

He ran up the stairs, out of breath by the time he reached the top. He scanned the empty roof quickly. No Natasha. He made his way back down through the building, knocking on doors. Most of the people in the rooms just shook their head at him and closed the door. Mrs. Newman, in 5D, offered him cookies and told him he needed to eat more. He actually had an in-depth discussion on Schrodinger’s Cat and physics with a guy named Bruce in 4A, until the urgency of the situation caught up with him. He continued knocking on doors and talking to neighbors. No, no vicious little cat here, they all said. Haven’t seen it. Don’t care. Now shoo, random guy.

When Tony made it back to his own floor, he was almost in tears. Opening his apartment, he looked around again, grabbing a flashlight just to make sure Natasha wasn’t hiding in a corner under the bed. No cat.

He felt a few traitorous tears slip down his face and angrily brushed them away. He shouldn’t be so upset about a cat. A vicious cat. A cat that like to sit on his chest and purr when he had a panic attack.

He left his apartment and moved down the hall, pausing at his neighbor’s door. He’d never spoken much to his neighbor - James, or something? - but the man was attractive. Tony probably looked a mess right now, all red-eyed and desperate and sweaty from running up and down flights of stairs.

Tony sniffed and took a deep breath. Then he knocked. He heard muffled footsteps and the door opened. “Hi, yeah, sorry to bother you, it’s just, have you seen a cat around? She got out of my apartment somehow, and she’s not on the roof or anything - oh, she’s about this big, tiny but mighty, likes to drink the blood of strangers, and has like, really fluffy fur. And claws. Large claws. And -”

“Yeah, your cat is asleep on top of my dog,” James said. He sounded amused.

“Fuck, is it alive - uh, the dog?”

James snickered. “He’s got a couple scratches, but nothing a couple days won’t fix. Now he’s too scared to move for fear of waking up your cat. I tried to grab her -”

“Oh God. I’ll pay the medical bills, please don’t report me.”

“- and luckily,” James continued, ignoring the interruption, “I used my prosthetic to do it, so I only got scratched paint.”

“I can fix that,” Tony said at once, grabbing James’ hand and pulling it close for inspection. “Yeah, I think I have the right paint, and it’s not hard to come by anyway.”

“No worries. Deep breath, I’m a little worried you’re going to pass out.”

“Nah, I’m always like this. Yeah. It’s a thing.” Tony turned red and tried very hard not to stare at James’ pretty blue eyes, or fancy hair, or the abs very visible beneath the tank top he was wearing. He ended up staring at James’ shoes for lack of anywhere better to look. “I’ll just um. Grab Natasha and go.”

“I don’t know, she seems attached. Want to have coffee or something while we wait for her to give up her perch?”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Coffee. Yep. Sure.” Natasha could vanish all she wanted if this was the result.


	2. Chapter 2

“You seem happier,” Steve said, taking a massive bite of his massive sandwich.

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve been doing good.”

“So who’s the lucky fella?”

Bucky gently set his soda on the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?”

“Definitely.”

“You realize in the last half hour since we got here you’ve mentioned this “Tony” and his cat at least twice every five minutes.”

Bucky slid his prosthetic across the table with a long raspy wail, and grabbed some chips. He proceeded to much on them. Loudly. Steve smirked at him and sucked at the dregs of his drink.

“He’s my neighbor. We run into each other a lot.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you haven’t been enabling his cat’s attempts to force your dog to be her personal slave.”

Bucky didn’t think about the cat door he had installed on the balcony. “Nope,” he replied.

Steve snorted.

“How’s Sam?” Bucky asked, his lips curving into a smirk as Steve blushed.

“The food here is really good, don’t you think?” Steve said, changing the subject. Bucky laughed and kept eating.

* * *

“You’re up to something,” Tony said. “I know it. This is all part of some devious plot to undermine my carefully crafted cynicism and loner-ness.”

Natasha purred and rubbed her face against Tony’s legs. He set a can of food on the counter and shuffled through his drawers, looking for a can opener. “I don’t even know how you’re getting out,” he continued. He found a can opener and turned back to the cat food. “The windows and door are all closed - and locked, so it’s not like he’s grabbing you every day in some devious plot to get me to visit.” He set the open can on the floor. Natasha dug in eagerly.

Tony stared at her. “For that matter, how are you getting into his apartment? I’d think he’d be all closed up too, by now.”

Natasha smacked him with her tail as she eagerly dug into her gourmet Salmon Surprise.

“Fine, be that way. See if I buy the fancy food next time I go to the pet store.”

Natasha turned and gave him big, imploring eyes.

“Oh, come on, now,” an amused voice said from the kitchen entryway. “You wouldn’t short a lady, now would you?”

Tony jumped, spinning in the air. “Rhodey!” he groaned. “How many times - don’t do that! I have a heart condition!”

“So you _want_ him to be kidnapping your cat to get your attention?”

“What? Who? What are you talking about?” Tony asked. He grabbed the can opener and turned to rinse it off in the sink.

“The mysterious cat-napper. I should point out that ninety percent of your stories lately are significantly less wild than usual and also contain him.”

“He’s my neighbor, and I can’t figure out how Natasha is getting into his apartment! She’s tormenting his poor dog!”

“The dog should be honored. She only torments people she likes.” Rhodey leaned over and cooed as Natasha wandered over. Licking her lips, she stretched up and purred as he petted her ears.

“Why doesn’t she ever try to eat you? She tries to eat everyone else. Except Pepper, and that’s because they’re both evil masterminds.”

“Everyone else being Tiberius, and Obadiah, and Summer?” Rhodey asked, more knowingly that Tony cared to dwell on.

“And your point?”

Rhodey sighed. “Well, they were all dickbags. And she seems to like your neighbor well enough.”

“They weren’t that bad.”

“Your cat is a better judge of people than you.”

“I am a perfectly good judge of people.”

“Sure, Tony. Are we still on for lunch?”

“It’s Tuesday already? Well, I mean yeah, uh. I’ll get some pants.”

“I don’t know, the Jimmy Neutron boxers make a statement.”

“Jerk.”

“Don’t forget to lock your door!”

Tony groaned.

* * *

Bucky got home around three. He jiggled his keys in the lock until the door opened and stepped into his apartment, closing the door behind him. Kicking off his shoes, he immediately headed for the balcony.

Sure enough, there in Clint’s bed, Clint lay with a tiny (but mighty) cat perched happily on his back. Natasha purred in her sunny spot as Clint’s tail thumped the floor. James snapped a picture on his phone and sent it to Steve. He watched in delight as Natasha licked Clint’s ears a couple of times before primly leaping from her perch and approaching Bucky. She rubbed against his ankles, and he scritched her ears. He was pleasantly surprised that she didn’t maul him, though she didn’t allow the attention long before stalking back to curl up next to Clint.

“You are my favorite thing to come home to,” Bucky told her. Not only was it a cute overload, but it also meant Tony would be dropping by to find her later. And if Bucky was lucky, he could talk the brilliant young man into having coffee or watching a bad sci-fi with him. He eagerly set about his afternoon routine, cleaning up the space and making sure he had enough clean dishes. He tossed one large fluffy blanket on his old saggy couch and opened a window to air out the space. Since it was a day off, he also started a load of laundry and wiped down the tiny bathroom. He applied an extra layer of deodorant and waited.

Sure enough, at about seven a knock came at the door.

Bucky didn’t run to open the door, but it was a near thing. He opened the door with a wide grin. “Yes, your cat is here,” he said.

Tony gave him a sheepish grin, hands fluttering uncertainly in front of him. “I am so sorry, I swear my apartment is locked down like cat Fort Knox, I have no idea how she keeps getting out.”

“It’s not a problem. It’s kind of adorable, honestly.”

“My murder cat trying to eat your dog?”

“My dog falling over himself to let her,” Bucky laughed.

“Well, I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll just grab her and get out of your hair.”

“No worries. They seem pretty comfortable. I was just about to start dinner, if you want to join me?”

Tony blinked at him, just as surprised as he always was to be invited to stay. “I, um - can’t cook, at all. And I don’t want to intrude -”

“You’re not intruding,” Bucky replied. “I invited you. And anyone can make mac and cheese from the box.”

Tony mumbled something, looking at the floor.

“Did you just say you lit a box on fire once?” Bucky asked.

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“Well. You’re in charge of drinks, then.”

Tony sighed and came inside, apparently convinced that he was welcome. Bucky had noticed early in their unusual acquaintance that Tony always seemed to be waiting for Bucky to tell him to leave, or that he wasn’t wanted. Bucky usually had to ask him several times to come in. Tony never said he didn’t want to visit with Bucky - just that he was worried he was intruding on Bucky himself. Bucky had also noticed that Tony didn’t have many visitors. Not that he’d been paying attention. Or trying to get their schedules to match up. That would be pathetic. 

So far, Bucky had seen two people visit Tony. A tall military man that seemed to be like Tony’s Steve had dropped by a few times. A tall redhead with murder heels and a wickedly sharp glint in her eye had visited once. Natasha had actually _purred_ , which just made Bucky more afraid of the woman. 

“Um, your pot is boiling over.”

Bucky quickly turned to blow on the boiling water, turning down the burner a little at the same time.

Tony was grinning at him. “Not sure you’re much better at this cooking thing than I am.”

“Well, as long as it’s edible, I’m not too worried.”

“Fair,” Tony said, handing over a tall glass. Bucky hadn’t even noticed him pouring the sparkling cider into the cups.

“There’s wine, if you’d prefer,” Bucky said.

Tony’s face clouded over. “I, ah. Don’t drink. Any. Anymore.”

Bucky nodded. “Works for me. Steve and Sam don’t drink either, though in Steve’s case it’s because he’s usually the designated driver.”

Tony relaxed at the easy acceptance. “That’s why the cider?”

“Yep. And I can’t afford good champagne, need something fizzy to celebrate with.”

Tony nodded like that made perfect sense and took a sip. Bucky watched his tongue flick out across his lips to swipe away the liquid.

“You should meet them sometime,” he blurted out.

Tony blinked. “Uh. Steve and Sam?”

“Yeah. They’re cool. Sam’s ex-military, Steve’s still in the army. Well. Sort of. He can’t give me may details.”

Tony shifted, biting his lip. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bug them or anything.”

“Completely sure. In fact - we’ve got lunch planned tomorrow. Want to come?”

“I have lunch plans with Pep and Rhodey,” Tony said. 

“Bring them along! Might as well get everyone together. It’ll be a party.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony said. His lips were curved into a soft smile, his eyes light. “Sounds like fun.”

Bucky grinned at him, his heart thudding in his chest and demanding that Bucky make him smile like that always.

He was so fucked.

* * *

“I thought we were going to the place on fifth?”

“We’re meeting some people,” Tony said.

Pepper and Rhodey exchanged a glance. “You know other people?” Rhodey asked.

“Shove off, honey bear.”

“Is it cat-napper?”

Tony almost tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.

“It is,” Pepper said, her face splitting into a smirk full of mischief. “Did you finally ask him out?”

“No, he just wanted to introduce me to his bros. You’ll like ‘em, Rhodes. One’s active duty and one’s a veteran.”

“What do they do?”

Tony shrugged. “They’re the classified types.”

“I’ll need to have a talk with this cat-napper.” Pepper tapped her heels a little more forcefully against the cement. 

“Please don’t eat him.”

“I make no promises.”

Rhodey grinned and threw an arm over each of their shoulders. “This is going to be a mess. A glorious, glorious mess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update on this one! Just started a new job, and figuring out the commute has been... ugh. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~Era Penn


End file.
